Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Cranberry And Red Stools


All night I slept with you

near the sea, on the island. You were wild and sweet

between pleasure and sleep,

between fire and water.

Perhaps very late our dreams


in the high or deep,

high as the branches move in the same wind,

down like red roots that touch. Maybe your dream

separated from my

and the dark sea

I was looking for,

as before, when

did not exist, when

sailed without seeing your side and

your eyes sought what now

- bread, wine, love and anger -

give you a hands full, because you're

the cup that was waiting for the gifts of my life.

I stayed with you throughout

la notte, mentre

l'oscura terra gira

con vivi e con morti,

e svegliandomi d'improvviso

in mezzo all'ombra

il mio braccio circondava la tua cintura.

Ne la notte ne il sonno

poterono separarci.

Ho dormito con te

e svegliandomi la tua bocca

uscita dal sonno

mi diede il sapore di terra,

d'acqua marina, di alghe,

del fondo della vita,

e ricevetti il tuo bacio

bagnato dall'aurora,

come se mi giungesse dal mare

che ci circonda.

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